


Happy

by beehoony



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-16
Updated: 2015-02-03
Packaged: 2018-03-07 18:35:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3178844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beehoony/pseuds/beehoony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When was the last time his happiness had been important to anyone?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"You sound happy." He folded the letter and slid it back into the envelope before tucking it into a drawer. 

When was the last time his happiness had been important to anyone? He'd been happy the day he had left for the templars, but afterwards it got lost amidst words like 'honour' and 'duty'. Rejoice in serving the Maker. 

Then the Blight had happened, and he had simply survived, kept going with the same bull-headed, foolish tenacity that had prevailed against the voices crawling around his skull. The terror never truly left, and it was there waiting when Meredith lost her mind.

That was before. And now...

He had been astonished to find himself smiling at the sight of her trudging up the path to Haven, complaining about the cold with wind-chapped lips. He caught himself looking for her in her favourite quiet corners, even when she was away (by all reports, thrashing through the Hinterlands and getting attacked by bears). 

He had thought it was too good to be true, and the familiar taste of despair had returned when he asked her how she would escape and she turned away (damn you, Varric, and your talk of heroic deaths). But duty is what he knew, and he did his duty well. It still didn't stop him from hoping, praying as he let the signal arrow fly.

It was a succession of bright moments after that. Finding her in the snow (he would never leave her like that again). The way she smiled every time their eyes met (sometimes warm, sometimes devious). Chess on Fridays (she was terrible at it but he always let her win). The first time they kissed (her nose was cold). The coin in her hand, being with her where he had always been the happiest (Mia always knew how to read between the lines).

She had asked him then, eyes soft with...love? "Are you happy?". 

He thinks he said yes; he can't be sure. He was drunk on happiness, reeling with every look and touch and kiss. He does know that he did kiss her, knows she pulled his head down to meet her lips when she tired of standing on tiptoes. 

There is a knock on the door. He holds it open as she shuffles in with a cup of tea in each hand and a book tucked under one arm. After putting everything down, she gives him a quick peck on the cheek. "How's the paperwork going?"

"I have a short letter to write, and then I'm all yours."

She is already curling up in the plush armchair in the corner that she saw fit to add to his office. "Take your time, I'm trying to puzzle something out." Within seconds she is completely focused on her book, tongue stuck out in her little frown of concentration. 

He watches her for a moment before he unstops his ink bottle, dips his quill in and begins. "Mia-"


	2. Evelyn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She hadn't really been unhappy at Circle despite all of that, but she hadn't been happy either.

A/N: I know that this is a generous helping of cheese, but I like to think they have that effect on each other.

* * *

 

The first time in her life that she remembered being unhappy was in the Circle. She was lying in the upper bunk that would be her bed in the years to come, surrounded by strangers, away from home for the first time in her life. Her father had promised he would come and takeI her home at the end of the week, but the older girl who was in the lower bunk had told her that her family had said that too, but they lied. Nobody loves mages, she said.

Evelyn was not alone, but she had never felt more lonely. She had cried quietly, burying her face in the lumpy pillow.

Then Friday had arrived, and her father was there to take her home. There had been a long conversation between her papa, her uncle Martin in all his templar armour, auntie Lucille (well, papa's auntie, she kept forgetting to call her Revered Mother) and the First Enchanter, who had pumpkin soup in his beard.

Her father had taken her by the hand after all of that and she had come home to her mama's arms and a dinner of her favourite food.

She hadn't been as unhappy after that, but the Circle had made her suffer in many little ways for it. In every class, someone would knock over her flasks or spill ink on her notes. She invariably sat alone at meals until she figured out that the Tranquil didn't hate her because they didn't hate anyone, so she sat with them instead. She grew adept at probing her bed for creepy crawlies and for the odd hex. One itch curse had been enough to inculcate lifelong caution.

She hadn't really been unhappy at Circle despite all of that, but she hadn't been happy either.

Outside the Circle, her parents insisted that she fulfil her social obligations as Bann Trevelyan's daughter. She learned to keep her mouth smiling even as her eyes screamed murder when yet another thoughtless noblewoman tittered about her being a mage, that they should be careful that she didn't turn them all to frogs. She kept to herself the thought that it would be a marked improvement. Her parents, too, kept smiling. She knew that they wanted to show the Ostwick nobility that she was no more than another girl, that some battles were better won with stiff upper lips, but that was cold comfort.

At home, they interrogated her about the week's events. Within weeks, she had decided that telling them about most things only served to make them unhappy and that there was really nothing they could do to change things. So she began deflecting most questions with amusing stories or boring technical explanations about various spells (thermodynamics tended to be a safe bet when trying to dissuade them from further inquiry).

Nowadays they simply wrote numerous letters, usually starting with with whether she was hurt (unsurprisingly, they had been very anxious since the Conclave blew up, and even more so since she dropped the side of a mountain on her own head). Her current fallback these days were anecdotes involving bears. "Bears in the wild smell bad, much worse than the ones in the zoo that papa used to bring us to. They're also very grumpy! I wonder why most children have stuffed bears as toys."

She generally left out the parts that included demons, blood magic, red templars and an immortal darkspawn magister. Oh, and the part where she almost got mauled by a bear before the Bull had put his axe through its skull.

Her last missive had included extensive details about spiders (she somehow forgot to mention that they were Fade-spiders representing the fears of every sentient in Thedas and that she was in the Fade because she had fallen off a bridge destroyed by an archdemon). Had her parents been more credulous, they would have thought she spent a lot of time slaughtering wildlife. Unfortunately, they were doubtless aware of the censorship.

She folded the latest letter with a sigh; as usual, her father had asked, "Are you happy?". He had taken to asking her direct questions as she grew older and more evasive.

The answer was not what it had been.

She set out for his office after pulling on two more coats. He still neglected to mention the hole in the roof to the builders despite her repeated hints, then threats about it. She had a feeling he thought the cold discouraged bothersome people from lingering.

Snowflakes were gently drifting through the hole in the roof, getting stuck on the fur ruff of his coat. He was frowning at a stack of paperwork when she opened the door carefully, trying not to make it squeak.

"Evelyn." The way he said her name still made her heart turn cartwheels. He stood to greet her as he always did, but the kisses were new and wonderful.

"I need to write a letter. To Ostwick." He sat her down in his chair, producing ink and paper from various drawers.

"How do I tell them about you? Maker's knickers! I should just put you in a box and mail you to Ostwick. Or you could just come with me to Ostwick when all of this is over." She smiled sheepishly when he laughed. "Would you?" she asked in a small voice.

"Of course." He gave her a tight hug. She looked at him, helpless in the face of tenderness as he thought to himself; so this was might come after; Ostwick, and a chance to ask her father for her hand.

She was too was thinking about what might come after; both she and Cullen horribly seasick crossing the Waking Sea, her parents delighted to meet him (they both feared she would be alone forever), travelling with him to all the Wonders of Thedas (the real ones, not that awful shop in Denerim).

The start of a happily ever after.


End file.
